" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. ‘He prayeth best who loveth best—all things both great and small. Disengaging his right arm, Jonathan struck his victim a tremendous blow on the head with the bludgeon, that fractured his skull; and, exerting all his strength, threw him over the rails, to which he clung with the tenacity of despair. ” Lucy looked at Michelle’s pretty face, rendered corpselike and frozen by unconsciousness.
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